


Lights, Camera, Action!

by egberts



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M, not enough to tag it as a relationship, slight johnkat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egberts/pseuds/egberts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Acting is a tough business, even tougher when you fall in love with your costar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Okay, you admit it; in the right light John could be kind of cute. He had soft black hair, beautiful blue eyes that contrasted his skin, a set of pearly whites that could blind anyone, and probably the smoothest skin you’d ever touched in your entire life. And that was just on his face. The rest of him was cute too. He was kind of short, about five foot six, he wasn’t too lean but he wasn’t big either, just in the middle, he had darker skin than you because he was half Spanish, and he had the most beautiful hands you’d ever seen. They weren’t smooth like the rest of his skin, they were sort of worn and callused from years of classical piano training, and they were beautiful. He had long slender fingers that could dance across piano keys like a ballerina across a stage. You’d only ever heard him play a handful of times, but you knew he was talented, and God, that handful of times could probably be likened to Heaven.

Alright, while you’re admitting it, you might as well admit that in _any_ light John could be _really_ cute. It wasn’t hard to admit to yourself, you had a huge crush on him. Major. Grand. _Outstanding._ Those are just a few choice words to describe the level of crush that you currently had on one Mr. Johnathan Cornelius Egbert. It didn’t start like that though, no, you were colleagues, and then friends, and then you started to feel… something... for John. Something that you’d never really felt before, a weird sort of tightness in your chest when he laughed. It made you almost dizzy when he smiled. Your stomach would flutter when he spoke to you. But most of all, you felt a sort of calm all over you when you heard him play piano. You wished you had a reason to hear it more often.

Point being, you were head over heels in love with this boy. And things were looking pretty good right now, he had his eyes closed, and he was leaning in for a kiss. His lips were nearing yours, his fingers dancing up your thighs. The lights were low, the air was quiet, and John was so close you could feel his breath on your face. Your eyes were half-lidded, lustfully awaiting the kiss, he drew closer and closer; under the dim lights he looked stunning.

“And scene!” A voice called from the left. Suddenly, the lights went up and John pulled back. He gave you a sweet smile before standing up and taking his leave. You sighed to yourself and stood up too. A few seconds longer, that’s all you wanted, for your lips to connect with John’s, to feel the heat fall off of him and onto you.

You stretch when you stand up and turn to your left. A sort of are-you-kidding-me look well placed on your face. The man who shouted moments ago gave you a shit eating grin. You glare at him.

“Really, Karkat? Two more seconds, that’s all I needed. Two more.”

He just shrugs and leans back in his chair. “Can’t let you have all the fun in one go, can I, Strider?” This asshole, you were unfortunate enough to call your best friend. He was also technically your boss. And he was a dick; you mean that in the most loving way possible. You hate his guts. He knows all about your crush on John, because you basically tell him everything. And telling him you liked John is probably your biggest regret, because ever since he’s been dangling John in front of you like a steak on a hook.

Karkat wasn’t dating John or anything, no. He was John’s boss too. You and John were costars in a stupid high school romcom written and directed by K.M. Vantas, otherwise known as the dick in the chair to your left. Filming was actually nearing its end, and you weren’t looking forward to it. You wanted to drag it out as long as you possibly could, Karkat helped. In all the wrong ways. He’d call cut just moments before a kissing scene, or tell John to take five while you were cuddling, or decide to ‘change’ the way something romantic was supposed to happen. It was getting frustrating.

To John though, it was all just business. He’d been in a lot of movies, you not so many. He probably didn’t even see you as any more than just a costar and minor friend. You could tell on his part the kisses weren’t as passionate, he didn’t feel them like you did, he didn’t crave your touch. He even mentioned to you that you were pretty good at fake kissing. Ha. Hahaha. Ha. Hahaha. You wanted to die.

It was like the _entire_ world was working against you here. All you wanted to do was kiss John and crush on him in peace. But no, Karkat fucked that up. And when you did get to kiss him, he didn’t share your ardent behavior, he did alright, but you knew he was acting, you knew to him it was just a job and at the end of the day it meant nothing. It tore you up from the inside out; you didn’t show it on the outside though. You were pretty fucking great at masking emotions, especially sappy ones. Hell, when you weren’t filming you wore a pair of tacky thrift-store stunners everywhere. (Cool kid talk for really stupid looking aviator sunglasses.)

You use the term cool _kid_ lightly, however. You were not a kid anymore. Okay, some people still called you kid, but most people saw you as an adult, you hoped anyway. Nineteen was sort of a weird age, come to think of it. You were on your last leg of being a teenager but not really quite grown up yet, sort of just stuck in the middle.

Karkat, your asshole director friend (you use the term asshole endearingly, really you do), was a few years older than you, and the boy you were crushing hard on, a year younger. So to sum up this entire situation, you were crushing on your costar who was a child actor, now finding his footing in the adult acting world; while your best friend, an up and coming director taunted you for and with your crush at every possible opportunity he could find. Peachy, absolutely fucking peachy.

You collapse in your chair next to Karkat’s and uncap a bottle of water. “I hate you.”

“I love you too.” He simpered. He looked sickeningly pleased with himself.

You roll your eyes and down a few drinks of water. “And I’m guessing that’s it for today?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, did you suffer enough?” God, you just want to punch him in his stupid smug face.

“You are quite literally the worst best friend, ever.” You grumble.

He gives you another shit eating grin and pushes himself up from his seat. “See you tomorrow, Dave.” And with a wave over his shoulder he was gone too.

Now it was just you. And about two hundred crew members, but they don’t count. So, for dramatic effect, it was just you. You sigh through your nose and stand up too. You toss your bottle of water back on the table you got it from; somebody else will drink it, maybe, probably. You don’t care. And you drag your feet all the way out of the building and to your car. You drive through security and to the closest fast food restaurant, and then you drive yourself home and collapse into the couch to eat your fast food.

Life sucks.

This food isn’t even good. Why do you bother with this garbage? Oh yeah, because it goes great with life. Which is garbage too, that’s the metaphor. You begrudgingly swallow down the food. Maybe one day, if you’re really lucky, you’ll die from a clogged artery. In hopes of that, you continue to poison yourself with the worst kinds of fast food possible.

Okay, maybe you’re being a bit of a drama queen, but come on. You just want to kiss John, and you could. You could indulge in your sick middle school crush guilt free if Karkat wasn’t such a bag of dicks. But he was. And you were _suffering_ because of it.

You crumple up the bag your food came in and toss it on the floor, it’ll get picked up eventually. Maybe. Probably? You’d get around to it. You’d have to, it didn’t take much for your apartment to look shabby. It was pretty small, you were well off enough on money because you’d acted in a few independent films before Karkat asked you to be in his, but you didn’t need anything luxurious, just something comfortable to live in.

The next few hours are spent watching a really awful reality television marathon, it gives you hope, really. There’re people out there whose lives are infinitely worse than yours, in a modern-lifestyle sort of standing. _Obviously_ , there are thousands of people in second and third world countries whose lives would make your problems seem like… Like a mosquito bite or a stubbed toe, so you really shouldn’t complain, but you do anyway.

You must’ve dosed off during the marathon because the next thing you remember, you’re belly down on the carpet in front of the couch, drooling all over yourself. No one must ever know about this.

You push yourself up to your hands and knees and then use the couch for support to stand. With a yawn and a stretch you pull out your phone to check the time, three AM. Oh and look, you’ve got a text from Karkat. Oh great, that’s _exactly_ who you want to speak with. You roll your eyes and look over the message.

_HEY, ASSHOLE, CALL ME._

You groan and bring up your contacts to find Karkat’s name. He answers pretty quickly for it being three in the morning, but instead of replying to his hello with a hello of your own, you get straight to the point.

“What did you want?”

“Oh, fuck,” He slurs a little bit. “I forgot, I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Karkat, are you drunk?” You knit your eyebrows together, he can’t see you but it felt like the right thing to do for this particular question.

“Uh, maybe a little.” He definitely sounds more than a little drunk.

“Dude, it’s a Tuesday and we work tomorrow.”

“What’s your point?”

“What are you doing getting sauced on a Tuesday?” It wasn’t uncommon for Karkat to go a little overboard on the alcohol, but usually he saved his indulging for the weekends.

“Uhhhh,” He thinks for a moment, “It had something to do with what I needed to tell you but now I forgot and I’m just enjoying the booze.” Wow, what a guy.

“You are such an idiot.” You groan. A small – scratch that – a big part of you is wondering what the hell he had to tell you though; especially if it was something worth getting shitfaced on a weekday for.

“You remind me daily.” He grumbles and you hear something thud. He fumbles with the phone for a second and makes various grunting noises; he was definitely more than a little drunk. “But hey, I’m going to go. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, probably.”

“Whatever.” You hang up first and toss your phone on the couch. What on Earth did you do to get stuck with such a terrible best friend?

You shake your head, a small slightly endearing smile pulled at your lips, but you ignored the urge and stretched your arms again. You figure it’s time to catch some Z’s (that don’t take place on the smelly floor of your apartment) on the off chance Karkat doesn’t cancel shooting tomorrow. He probably will, but better safe than sorry. You slip off your shoes next to your bed and belly flop onto the blankets. You don’t even bother covering up, you just let yourself fall asleep like that, you’d probably regret it in the morning but who cares;  right now all you wanted to do was sleep your frustrations away.


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe you should just tell John how you feel? Walk up to him with your signature Dave Strider strut and plant one on him. Have a totally sentimental feelings jam and let it all out. He’d understand, probably; he was kind of a sap, from what you could tell. All you had to do was play your cards right and you might just have some choice Egbert ass on your side in no time.

Yeah right.

Dream on, dude. John doesn’t like you back. John probably doesn’t even know you like him in the first place. Not only was Egbert infinitely more famous than you, he was also cuter, more talented, probably smarter, and he did not like you back. As far as he and anyone that saw the two of your together were concerned, you were just business partners. Coworkers. Colleagues.

It’s these negative thoughts that forcefully yank you out of what once was a pretty sweet dream. You were chillin’ on a beach with John, sippin’ margaritas, and flirtin’ like a couple of honeymooners. That’s how you knew you were in deep, here. The dreams you’d been having. If it were just some normal lust-filled crush, you’d probably just been having wet dreams, right? Well you haven’t had those.

Not about John.

Every dream you have about John just puts the two of you in different, incredibly cliché scenarios and love scenes. It feels sort of like you’re projecting your feelings about John through small movie reels in your brain, to be honest. And that’s why spawns the negative thoughts, movie reels. Nothing more. Just films without emotion. Just work, for John.

This happens about three or four times a week now, it started off slowly, but soon enough you were having weird crush-y dreams about Egbert every other night. And the dreams, nice as they were, were not _helping_. In fact, they were doing the opposite; they were making it hard to weasel your way out of this damn crush.

That’s probably how you got sucked in so deep. Why you swoon every time he bats an eyelash. Because, even though you know you’re not dreaming, you so wish you were every second of every day. No, worse, you don’t wish you were dreaming, you wish real life would mimic a dream; and that was a dream in itself.

Anyway, now that you’ve pulled yourself out of your turned-bad dream and into reality, it’s probably time to get up. So, you do. At some point between when you laid down and now you’d actually made an effort to cover yourself, judging by the half-blanket-cocoon you’d ended up in. You rolled yourself out of your warm blanket nest and let your feet hit the floor. One arm stretched to the sky while another lazily wiped the sleep from your eyes.

Guess it’s time for another shitty day, where you have a shitty crush, and a pretty shitty best friend. (As much crap as you and Karkat gave each other, people might question _why_ you were best friends. By this point you figured it was a weird sort of thing that just stuck with you and he, the exploitation of each other’s weakness was something that just kind of started happening in high school. Like it was just part of your high school friendship with him, he’d pick on you for being an underclassman and you’d pick on him for being old. It just sort of stuck and matured into a fucked up best friendship in your ‘adult’ lives.)

You scour the kitchen for breakfast of some kind, making a mental note to get off your lazy ass and go grocery shopping. Finally, after what felt like probably 100 years of looking, you find some old pancake mix in the back of the fridge. Uh, maybe not. You toss it. You’ll just grab something on the way to work.

Which reminds you, you should probably check your phone to see if Karkat called it off or not.

Where is your phone?

Oh yeah, you tossed it on the couch last night.

You grab it and plop down in the place where it once sat, making another mental note to get a new couch because the amount of dust that just flew into the air when your butt contacted the cushion was a little unsettling. Actually, it was literally unsettling. You unsettled a vast amount of dust with your ass. (Ba dum tss.)

You unlock your phone and open your messages, nothing new. Looks like work is on, unfortunately. So, as much as you don’t want to, you force yourself up off the couch and back to your bedroom. You didn’t shower, but you should probably change your clothes, since you wore these yesterday and you obviously wanted to make a good impression on John, even though he probably wouldn’t even notice. Plus, if you absolutely needed to, you could shower at the studio before changing there.

After a quick pit check, you nod to yourself and suppose you’re ready to go.  On your way down to the lobby, you make another mental note to scratch your previous mental note about getting a new couch because you didn’t want to haul your old couch out and a new one up.

You had enough money that you could afford a decent car no sweat, but of course instead of some fancy new Mercedes, you had a Ford Grand Torino, cherry red one; very similar to the one seen in your favourite movie of all time. It was in great condition though, so you didn’t need some bright and shiny car with voice recognition.

The drive to the studio wasn’t entirely impressive. You stopped along the way to grab breakfast and that was pretty much it. Basic route, basic routine, etc. What wasn’t so basic was what happened when you got inside the studio.

At first, it was normal. You went through security, said hi to Stan, the guy who always seems to be replacing a light bulb when you see him, and walk up to the set fully intent on getting directions or instructions or whatever. Acting had a lot of that, direction following. You immediately notice the lack of Karkat. You spin in a circle and do a quick sweep of the area to see if you can spot him. Nope.

“Dave!” Somebody calls from behind you just as you finish your spin. “Dave!!” He runs up, panting a little, and oh God. You’re met with those beautiful blue eyes. “Dave, Karkat hasn’t showed up yet, there’s no filming today.”

You roll your eyes; you should’ve seen this coming. “Nobody’s heard from him?” John shakes his head, loose black tufts of hair bouncing with the motion. “Figures.”

“Yep.” John presses his lips together awkwardly. He follows up the action with an equally as awkward hand clap, “So, I guess we’ve got the day to ourselves?”

“Looks like it.” You shrug.

“Wanna grab lunch or something?”

Woah, wait, what? He wants to go to lunch… with you? You blink a few times and stammer out, “You want to go to lunch…with me?” Your voice mimics the thoughts that went through your head just seconds before.

“Well yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

You shake your head slowly, still pretty stunned by the sudden invitation. John and you spent time together maybe one time outside of filming, so this was pretty out of the blue. “I dunno, we just never, uh…” You finish your sentence with several vague circular hand motions instead of words.

“Hang out?” He smiles and laughs. “That’s why I’m asking! We’ve been working together for like two or three months now and haven’t spent any time getting to know each other! I was thinking about it last night and,” He shrugs. “It’s weird kissing somebody all the time that you don’t know anything about.”

“Right… right.” You nod. “I get that.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Where?” You ask, probably sounding kind of dumbfounded.

“To lunch with me!” Oh yeah, that’s what started this. You give him another nod and he grins. “Great, let me go grad my jacket from my dressing room, we can take your car or mine, I don’t care.”

“Alright.” You  barely manage to say when he starts walking to his dressing room.

Happened?

John never even acknowledged you as more than just a colleague. At least, you were pretty sure he’d never considered you as anything more. And he just asked you to lunch.

As friends, of course. This wasn’t a date. Just lunch as friends…

But you could _pretend_ it was a date.

Uh, no, you can’t do that. That’s weird.

So what? Self-indulge a little, the guy you like just asked you to lunch, milk the situation.

Nope, you weren’t going to do that. You liked John, but not on weirdly creepy enough levels to do that. Plus, you didn’t need to pretend it was a date to tame your crush, you got to kiss him all the time, he was your costar love interest.

After several more seconds of internal debate, John returns, ready for lunch. He bounces up to you with a smile, “Ready?” You nod and follow him to his car. Damn this was a nice car. You were actually kind of shocked he didn’t have like a fancy driver or anything though, he just drove himself. Not that you were like stereotyping him or anything, but he’d been famous since before he could talk. Big blues eyes on a black-haired baby make for a child that the media would eat up.

“Any particular place in mind?” You question as he’s pulling away. He shakes his head. “So you asked me to lunch without even having lunch plans.”

“I didn’t think that far ahead.” He shrugs. “I didn’t even expect you to say yes.” What? Why didn’t he think you’d say yes? You were nuts about him. Okay, he didn’t know that, but you were pretty sure you weren’t giving off any negative vibes.

“What? Why?” You wrinkle up your nose.

Another shrug on his part, “Dunno, you just kind of seem like the kind of guy who’s too cool to have work friends.”

“Karkat is my friend?”

“Yeaaaah, but he was your friend before.” He reminds you.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, like some people hate the people they work with? They just,” Jesus this boy shrugs a lot, “Aren’t work social.”

“And I gave off that vibe?”

“Uh, sort of.” He takes a hand off the wheel and taps his glasses. “I think it’s the shades.”

“They serve a purpose.” You grimace. John _has_ seen your eyes, like your real eyes. You wear contacts while shooting, but take them out as often as you can; unfortunately when you do your shades aren’t always on hand.

“Yeah yeah,” He rolls his eyes. “I know, you’ve got a thing about your eye colour.”

“How many people do you know with red eyes, Egbert?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Point made.” He frowns. “By the way, you can call me John?”

“You sound unsure.”

“Well, you always call me Egbert.” He stops for a second, “I guess that contributes to the anti-social vibe you give off. Can’t even get on a first name basis.”

“Uh…” Okay, he makes a point. Sure, this crush was a one way street, but it’s not like you were putting in any effort to help the situation. You just sort of beat yourself up every day because you never talked to John.

“So, call me John!”

“Right, yeah, sure thing, John.” You swallow, as quietly as you can. This entire situation was so awkward. “So any idea where we’re headed?”

“Not one, what do you like?”

You half shrug, “Chinese?”

“Sounds good!” He beams. “Just gotta be careful about what I order.” And now he’s sort of frowning, but not sadly, more sourly.

“Why’s that?”

“Peanut allergy.”

“Ah,” You nod. “They fry stuff in peanut oil a lot.”

“Yeee-up.” He pops the P at the end and, oh fuck, it was cute.

_What have you gotten yourself into?_


	3. Chapter 3

John, unlike yourself, had manners when he ate. It was charming to watch. Not that you were like staring at him while he was eating or anything. No, that’d be fucking weird. You like the guy but you’re not a creep.

Alright, maybe you were staring a little.

But he had such perfect teeth and attractive lips; it was just really hard not to stare. He was so polite in the way he would use his fork to cut up his food, how he would use his napkin like a civilized human being rather than crumpling it in a wad and hoping he got all the food off his face.

Mostly though, you weren’t staring at his face, you were staring at his hands. It wasn’t particularly exciting watching somebody use silverware, but with John it kind of felt different. His fingers were so gently but at the same time he used a sort of control that you guessed could only come from his years of piano playing. And God, more than anything, you wanted those fingers to be dancing up your chest, running up your thigh, combing through your hair…

But no.

Instead they were across from you at a table in a smelly Chinese restaurant that John insisted was the best place to eat, ever. You should probably stop staring now. You don’t want to seem weird.

Your eyes trail up from John’s hands to his face, he’s been talking this whole time but you weren’t exactly listening. Oops.

“… because I’ve never really done a romantic movie before, I mean I’ve kissed in movies before but only as like the rebellious teenager that the protagonist didn’t want his daughter to date or something. Not that it was weird, to like, kiss you. You’re a great kisser, fantastic even.” He stops himself and takes a bite of his food. “I don’t know where I was going with this.”

You shake your head and grin, “I don’t either, Dude. Honestly I stopped listening like five minutes ago.”

He fakes a dramatic gasp and nudges you with his foot under the table. “Rude!”

“Can you blame me?” You shrug and he glares. “I did catch the end though, good kisser, huh?” And now he blushes. You lean across the table slightly, closing the distance between you and he, and with the flirtiest tone you can manage, “You haven’t seen anything yet, Egbert.”

His cheeks flare up a very bright shade of red; you note how cute it looks against his eyes. “Dave!” He exclaims, and you fall back into your seat, laughing wildly. John looks like he’s going to die of embarrassment.

He thought you were only kidding. Hahaha. Oh God. You were so royally fucked.

“Can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen, Egbert.” You smirk. Play it off cool, Strider. Don’t let him see you sweat.

“I wasn’t even in the kitchen! You like,” He throws his hands up a little and shrugs, “You brought the frying pan to me.”

“And I served you a damn sweet meal.”

His face is still several shades redder than it normally would be. It was so cute; you were literally probably going to die. Just try to wait ‘til you’re alone, dying in front of John would probably be embarrassing. He quickly shoved a bite of food into his mouth to hide his ruffled mannerisms, but you could totally tell he was embarrassed. Well, you thought he was embarrassed. Why else would he be feeling all blush-y and flustered?

The two of you finish your meals without much more conversation; you really hope you didn’t just put him off entirely with your mostly-fake-but-still-kind-of-real flirting. That would suck. As you were heading towards John’s car, though, your phone started to vibrate.

“Yo, one second.” You threw up you index finger in John’s direction and dug your phone from your pocket. He was watching as you put it to your ear. “Strider speaking.” You said, coolly as you can. Totally not some kind of ploy to make John swoon at how utterly cool you were, that’d be ridiculous.

“Where in the fuck are you? Where’s John?” Karkat’s (naturally) angry sounding voice came through the speaker. “Stan said you both came in and then left together.”

“Yeah,” You glance at John, who has lost interest in your conversation and turned to continue going to his car. You turn your back to him anyway, for good measure, and lower your voice a bit. “We’re at lunch dude, leave me alone.”

“You?” He scoffs. “You’re at lunch with John?” Before you can reply he breaks into laughter, and chokes out between gasps. “You’ve got… to be… kidding me! You went to lunch… with Egbert!”

“You’re a dick.” You monotone and straighten yourself up again. “Call off shooting.”

His laughing stops and his tone goes semi-serious, “Why should I call of shooting just because you have a crush?”

“Oh, I dunno, Karkat, maybe because you’re my best friend.” You roll your eyes. “Throw me a damn bone here, something is finally going right and you’re out to ruin it.”

He groans a little and says, “Alright, fine, but tomorrow you better be on your best game.”

“Yeah yeah,” You assure. “I’ll make your stupid movie so great with my number one A-list acting.”

That earns you another laugh on his part before he says, “Alright, enjoy your _date.”_

“Not a date!” You hiss into the phone and hang up. You turn back to John, who’s waiting at his car. You wave and walk over. This was totally not a date.

“Who was that?” John questions before getting in the car.

“Karkat.”

“Oh, what’d he want?” He slides into his seat and buckles his seatbelt, you follow suit.

“To let me know shooting is off, today.” You laughed.

John laughs, too. “Wow, can’t believe we didn’t figure that when we realized Karkat wasn’t there earlier.”

“I figured it out last night.” You hum. John raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh, Karkat texted me at like one in the morning and I called him around three, he was so wasted.”

“On a Tuesday?” He puts the car in reverse and pulls out of the parking space.

“Yeah, he said he had big news for me, but he forgot because he was plastered.” You shrug. “No biggie, if it was really important he’d remember now.”

“Unless he learnt about it _while_ he was drunk.” John adds. You give him a funny look. He shrugs, AGAIN. “Well, if I was drunk and I heard something exciting, I’d want to tell my friend before I forgot, but if I was drunk I would forget and then I wouldn’t remember when I wasn’t drunk.”

“That didn’t make any sense.”

“Shut up, yes it did.” He laughs.

“No it didn’t, you’re not even old enough to drink.”

“So?” He gives you a mischievous sort of look out of the corner of his eye.

You feign a gasp and throw your hand over your mouth, “Jonhathan Egbert! How _dare_ you!”

“Oh, shoosh, it’s not like you haven’t done it.” Those bright blue irises make nearly a full circle before he turns his attention back to the road.

“Yeah, but I’m older.”

“By like a year!”

“One entire year more experience, dude.” You shrug. You’re obviously joking, and you’re pretty sure he realizes it. Oh God, you hope he does.

“Pft, experience.” He must’ve realized because you’ve earned yourself another blue-eyed eye-roll. “You probably have as much experience as a sack of potatoes.”

“Are you saying a sack of potatoes can’t get turnt up, Egbert?”

“No, I’m saying you’re acting all cool, but I doubt you can handle your liquor any better than me.” He taps his thumbs on the wheel in tune with what he says.

“Is that a challenge?” You raise both eyebrows at him in fake surprise. He probably doesn’t even see considering he’s driving, but whatever.

“It might be.” You can see a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. Oh God, was he flirting with you? No, no he’s just being an asshole and joking around. “Why, do you think you could win such a challenge?”

“Oh, I know I could.” You reply with confidence.

The smirk that tugged at his lips previously was now full on, “Alright, then, I challenge you.”

“To a drinking contest?” You laugh.

“Hell yeah. Whoever gets drunk first loses.”

“John, if we’re both drunk,” You begin slowly, mostly for dramatic effect. “How are we going to know whose drunk first?”

“I’m pretty sure the person who is less drunk will know if the other person is drunk or not,” He was not making any sense.

“You are not making any sense.” You chuckle. What the fuck, chuckle is such a weird word. Don’t do that anymore.

“I am making plenty of sense.” He argues.

“Are you kidding, no you aren’t.” You roll your eyes. “You just want a reason to hang out with me.” Now you were the one smirking.

“Psh, yeah right! Why would I wanna hang out with you? You’re not even cool,” He’s joking. You hope.

“So why’d you ask me to lunch?”

“To see if you really weren’t as cool as I thought you weren’t. Which you aren’t.” He says as seriously as you can manage, but you know he’s kidding now because he’s trying not to laugh.

“Right, right. That makes sense.”

He looks at you and grins, only for a second, because again, he’s driving. “So, should we go get your car or do you wanna do something else?”

“Well, from what I remember, you wanted to get drunk.” You hum.

He looks a bit shocked and stammers out, “I was joking! I didn’t think you’d actually _want_ to.”

“Well, Egbert, you seem to keep making the mistake of assuming I don’t want to do things with you.”

“Where would we even get alcohol? I’m 18 and you’re 19.”

“I know a guy, turn here.” You point to the left, taking John by surprise, he barely has time to click on his blinker and make the turn.

“Jesus Dave, a little warning next time!” He laughs. “You’re gonna get us killed.”

“Hey now, I’m not the one who keeps taking their eyes off the road.” You pause, and then add, “To look at their _incredibly_ attractive passenger.” He rolls his eyes again and you laugh.

“Where are we even going?”

“Karkat’s.” He gives you a confused glance and you shrug. You can’t steal the alcohol from your Bro like you did when you lived at home, so Karkat was the next best bet.

“You’re taking me to get drunk… at Karkat’s house?”

“Well, technically you’re taking me.” You gesture to the steering wheel.

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay, listen.” You begin. “Karkat has always been fine with me going over to his place to throw a few back, but I’m not so sure how he’d act if you showed up with me. Also, judging from his phone call he’s probably not home yet. So that leaves us with two options.” You stop.

Finally, after John waits a few minutes for you to speak, he says, “And what are those options? If I’m part of this plan I think I need to know.”

 “We can either wait for Karkat or,” You smirk. “We can break into his house.”

John gives a blank stare and you give him what you can only imagine is the stupidest grin you’ve ever given to anybody. “We are not breaking into our boss’s house.”

You shrug. “Your boss, my best friend.” You dig around in your pocket for a second and pull out a key ring. “My very best friend.” You hold the ring by one specific, very ordinary looking house key.

“No.” John says sternly. “You are a terrible person, Dave Strider. Why do you even have that? Where did you get it? Did Karkat give it to you?”

“Actually, yes. He has a key to my apartment too.”

“Oh…” John says, his face turns a shade of red and you realize what he must be thinking.

“Oh! No no, dude no. Karkat is _just_ my friend.” You raise your hands in an innocent sort of gesture. You see the colour in John’s face go down a bit and he relaxes. “We’ve been friends since high school. I was a freshman when he was a junior. Shit, the only reason we actually met is because we had drama club together.”

“Oh, Dave Strider the high school drama dork.” He snickers.

“I was not a drama dork!” You protest. Lies. You so were. Your specialty was improv comedy.

“Right right, that’s why you became an actor after high school?” He hums.

“I didn’t become an actor after high school.” You fold your arms. He gives you a look that could be described as a mix of confusion and ‘are you kidding’. “I was in my first movie when I was a junior.”

“Wow.” He shakes his head.

“Wow what? You’ve been acting since you were like zero!” You laugh.

He laughs as well, “Yeah but not by choice.”

“Oh, so you were forced to work on this gay ass romcom we’re doing now.” Your arms are still folded, making for the perfect judgmental stare.

He thinks for a second, hums, and then nods. “Yep.”

You roll your eyes and finish giving him the directions to Karkat’s house. Had you gotten your way you would’ve just sent him a text and told him you were ransacking his liquor but John wouldn’t allow it. So you waited. And waited. And finally a little over an hour later Karkat finally fucking pulls up.

During the waiting time though, you and John talked. He was so much more adorable than you originally thought he was. There were even a few times when you were pretty sure he was flirting with you, but being the idiot you are, you didn’t flirt back. It was probably only your imagination anyway. Your denial wasn’t derived from “does John even _like_ dudes” because you knew he did, he’s in a literally gay high school romcom, for crying out loud. No, your denial came directly from “John doesn’t even like me” and that made it so much harder to deal with. To directly feel like the boy that you could probably say you loved and mean it didn’t love you back. Much less, he didn’t even LIKE you back. He just acknowledged your existence.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by Karkat tapping on the passenger side window; you hadn’t even noticed John get out of the car. You blink and shake your head and open the door.

“Is little Lord Fauntleroy writing sonnets in his head again?” Karkat digs an elbow into your side.

“Eat dick, Karkat.” You grumble and follow him up to the house. John was waiting on the porch for you.

“So what brings the two of you to my humble abode?” He asks, unlocking the door.

“John wants to get fucked up.” You smirk in John’s direction.

His mouth falls open both out of embarrassment and shock to your bluntness. “I do not!” He protests.

“I’m pretty sure it was _you_ who challenged me.”

“Yeah because you were being a smug asshole!” He laughs and shoves your shoulder.

Karkat pokes his head out the front door and whistles to get your attention. “If you two love birds are done flirting,” He steps out of the way, signaling you to enter his house. He went in before you and shut the door behind him the first time; you can only guess it was to pick up his house a little bit – probably to impress John. You’d already seen Karkat at his worst, so a few out of place things in his house were nothing.

John, upon entering, scans the entire front room, taking it in. A natural reaction to being in a new place. “Damn Karkat,” He laughs and runs a finger across the back of one of the sofas. “What’s with all the 1920’s furniture?”

“It’s vintage!” Karkat objects. “Not just _1920s_ either, it’s cool. Shut up.” Karkat, your best friend for the last six years, almost, had a few noticeable traits. His anger – everyone could see that one. His love for romantic comedies – another obvious one. His weird way of caring for others – not so prominent but still there. And, lastly, he really liked vintage collectibles, especially furniture.

“Karkats a _collector._ ” You say the last word with some dignity, for effect. John stifles a giggle. “Even in high school, he had the weirdest shit.”

“Excuse me for having a refined taste.” He folds his arms.

“Most people with a,” You air-quote this next word, “Refined taste don’t live in a shabby two bedroom house.” You tap a finger to your chin before adding, “Especially the ones that make as much money as you.”

“You don’t even know how much I make, asswipe.” He scoffs.

You grin at him and step around the corner from the living room to the kitchen. He follows you. John follows him. “If this is _any_ indication,” You pull open one of his kitchen cabinets. It’s filled with different brands of alcohol, most of them pretty expensive, “Of how much you make, then you make a lot.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles. Your eyes fall onto John, who is kind of just staring in disbelief at the sheer amount of liquor Karkat keeps in his home. Karkat must’ve noticed to because he gets a sickeningly sweet smirk on his face and claps a hand over John’s shoulder. “Like what you see?” John looks at Karkat out of the corner of his eye and nods a bit. Karkat laughs. “Well, you can have whatever you like.”

And that is how you and Karkat both accidentally worked together in an attempt to get one Mr. Johnathan Cornelius Egbert completely fucking plastered. Let the records show that it did not take long, John was one of the biggest lightweights you’d ever seen, and you totally won the challenge.

The sun started to set while the three of you were indulging in your weekday drinking. Ironic that you’d judged Karkat for this just the night before. Speaking of Karkat, he was pretty fucking drunk too. Seems like you’re the only one left with a decent head on your shoulders.

You watched John and Karkat drunkenly mix up their words while talking to each other, they were sitting uncomfortably close on the couch. You didn’t like it. You weren’t drunk, but you also weren’t sober enough to remember that John was in fact, not yours. Somewhere deep in the back of your mind you’d mentally called dibs on him and it made you boil with rage when Karkat did little things like whisper in his ear or put his hand on John’s knee.

You stood up to go relieve some of your anger, and your bladder. Two things that can conveniently be done in the bathroom. After you take a whiz you splash cold water on your face from the tap and recollect yourself. You have to remind yourself that John doesn’t now and never will know you love him. So get over it. You take a few deep breaths before stepping back into the… living… room…

Your heart is in your stomach and your stomach is in your throat. Your vision is a bit hazy and you’re not sure you believe what you’re seeing. You stumble backwards a bit until you hit a wall. All the while, John and Karkat never breaking contact.

John was straddled onto Karkat’s lap, Karkat holding him in place from the rear. John’s hands were on Karkat’s shoulders, and Karkat’s hands… You felt sick.

Their lips were connected.

They hadn’t broke contact since you’d entered the room. John kissing Karkat more passionately than he’d ever kissed you.  

Karkat was facing you and John’s back was to you.

For a brief moment you could’ve sworn you saw Karkat looking at you, aware of what he was doing.

But you don’t have to swear you saw it. Because you did see it. He had a sickening glint of deviousness in his eyes. You bring a hand up and run it through your hair weakly, trying to make sense of what’s going on. Your eyes darting between the two of them.

You can’t.

You can’t even leave because John drove you.

No fuck that, you can leave. You can fucking walk.

So you do.

Without a sound, without announcing yourself you slide past them. John breaks his contact with Karkat’s mouth the minute you do. You see Karkat shoot you a devilishly sick grin as you pass. Your hand contacts the door handle but you don’t even feel it, you just feel numb. You absentmindedly pull it open and stumble onto the porch.

Behind you, you hear ruffling and a thud, followed by John calling your name asking where you’re going. You don’t stop. You don’t turn around. You just get out.

Get out of there before you do something you’ll regret.

What a shitty best friend, and you meant that in the least endearing way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drama drama drama


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im literally just making this up as i go

You hate Karkat. You hate him, he’s disgusting and vile and the worst person you’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.

Of course you don’t tell anyone that.

You don’t acknowledge what happened.

You go to work, normal as ever.

You take direction. You play your part.

Nobody would ever be the wiser. Nobody would know you hated Karkat and you felt this weird sort of heartbreak around John. You didn’t even have a right to. He didn’t know you liked him, how could he? But Karkat?

Karkat knew.

Karkat was the only person that knew.

And he kissed him. He kissed him in front of you and smirked about it afterwards.

If you were one for drama, you’d liken him to the devil in human skin.

But you weren’t. So you acted like nothing happened. Karkat did you. Conversations with him were awkward and forced, but you did it.

A week went by; the anger in your stomach didn’t die.

Two weeks. You still felt a burning rage directed at your “best friend”.

Nearing three weeks, Karkat was still at the top of your “worst people to ever know” list.

You glared at him from the side of your vision; he was talking to somebody, an extra in the film. He acted fine. Everything was peachy here. You breathed in heavily through your nose and clenched your jaw. Oh, you wanted more than anything to get out of your chair and punch him square in the jaw.

But you didn’t.

You endured him.

Who knew how much longer you could stand it though, especially considering that since that night, outside of filming, John had barely spoken to you. Not only did Karkat dangle your crush in front of you like a chew toy, he also ruined what was probably your only chance at an actual friendship with the kid.

It made you bitter. So, so bitter. It made your stomach churn. The thought of Karkat walking around acting like not shit happened made you sick to the point that you actually did vomit one time.

You hated him, with ever ounce, every fiber of your being.

“Alright, that’s it for today, guys!” Karkat called, in the general direction of nobody, but loud enough for everybody to hear.

You push yourself up from your chair and make way to your dressing room. Lately you’d been trying to get dressed and get out as soon as you possibly could. You’d avoid anyone on the way in and the way out. From that day, the day Karkat kissed John, on this was strictly business. You weren’t here to make friends. You were here to play buddy-buddy. You were here to finish your job and get the fuck out.

Shit, you must’ve fit Egbert’s antisocial assumptions now.

Speaking of John, every now and again you would catch him looking at you, with sort of a solemn look. An apologetic look? You ignored it, but it gnawed at you.

You finished putting on your shoes and headed towards the door, time to get the hell out of Dodge. Just as your hands about to touch the handle you hear somebody call from behind.

“Dave!” The pit-pat of somebody running up to you follows. “Dave, hang on!”

You grit your teeth and turn to face him. “What do you want, Egbert?”

“I just wanted to say hey!” He was panting slightly, it reminded you of the day he asked you to lunch, which in turn reminded you that was also the day your best friend stuck a twelve inch knife through your heart. “We haven’t talked in weeks, aside from filming; I’m getting a bit worried you don’t like me anymore.” He laughs. Your heart sinks. Hahaha, God _damn_ you wish you didn’t like him anymore. That wasn’t the case. In fact, you’re pretty sure you liked him more now. Karkat kissing him sort of sent you into this weird aggressive mode, like an animal almost. You were devastated but also jealous beyond belief.

“Why on Earth wouldn’t I like you?” You ask, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.

He shrugs a little and bites his lip. “Well, uh, I know you saw.”

And there it is.

“Saw…?” You play dumb.

“You saw me kissing Karkat.”

“Oh, yeah, so?” You shrug.

“ _So_ , you looked a little bit uncomfortable when you saw, is all.” He’s talking pretty quiet and nervously chewing his lip.

“Well yeah, my best friend macking on th- my costar is a little unsettling.” Nice save.

“Haha, I guess.” He cracks a smile. “Especially considering Karkat is the one making us kiss every day.”

“Yeaaaahh…” You draw it out, not intentionally, and you hope John doesn’t realize.

He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, “You know…” He’s absentmindedly talking with his hands, probably because he doesn’t exactly know what to say. “Uh, you know it didn’t mean anything right?”

“Huh?”

“The kiss, mine and Karkat’s.”

“Oh, why would I care? If you like Karkat go for it, dude.” You shrug. Oh good God, you want to die.

“No, no, I don’t like him. I was just kind of drunk. You just,” He half shrugs, “I dunno, you seemed kind of put out after it happened, and you uh,” He does the vague hand motions again, “You used to kiss me really… good? Before… now you don’t. When we’re acting, I mean.” Oh fuck.

“Uh, sorry?” You can feel your face heating up and your stomach turning into butterflies. “I just didn’t think,” What didn’t you think? What are you saying? You don’t know fuck. “Well, I mean, you kissed Karkat it felt weird like, putting effort into it after that, I guess.”

“Oh, jeez, I’m sorry. I just,” God this was probably the most awkward conversation you’ve ever had. “Do you want to hang out?”

“Huh? Like now?”

“Yeah.”

Do you _really_ want to? Well, yes of course. You had a crush on this asshole. Okay, he wasn’t very much of an asshole, he didn’t even know that he basically stuck a dagger through your heart, but Jesus, you wish he knew. No, no you don’t. Why on Earth would you want him to know you liked him? Then he’d feel weird kissing you and stuff, shit he probably already felt weird. Especially after you saw him and Karkat playing tonsil hock-

A hand waves in front of your face, “Dave?” John snaps. “Earth to Strider.”

You blink and your vision falls on John, who’s staring at you expectantly. Whoops, zoned out there for a second. “Uh, sure.” Fuck. Why can’t you say no to this kid? He has you around his finger and he don’t even know it.

“Great!” He grins. “Should we take your car this time? I’ve always wanted a chauffeur.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay, your highness, let’s go.” You finally put your hand on the handle. Had you been standing there with your hand hovering over the handle this entire time? Whoops.

John follows you out and to your car. You can’t help but smile at his remarks about your “sweet ride” and how cool it is. He also mentions this is exactly the kind of car he pinned you to have… you think(?) it was a compliment. The two of you get in and you don’t exactly know where you’re going but you start driving anyway.

“Where to?” You don’t bother turning your head to look at him. You’re pretty sure you’re a hell of a lot safer driver than he is.

You see movement from the corner of your eye though, you assume he’s shrugging. “Anywhere is fine with me.”

“Again with the unpreparedness Egbert?” Is unpreparedness even a word? You don’t care, it is now.

“Not unprepared… just… adventurous!” He beams.

“Alright, Mr. Adventurous, I know where we can go.” You take a right, two lefts, another right, and one final left before winding up on a curvy dirt road. John looks a little confused and slightly terrified? “Chill, dude, I ain’t gonna murder you.”

“It’s just, I’ve seen movies Dave, and this dirt road looks awfully suspicious.”

“It leads somewhere awesome though, just relax.” You glance at him just long enough to show him a reassuring smile.

Fifteen more minutes of awkward silence later, the two of you were parked dangerously close to a cliff overlooking the city. John wordlessly gets out of the car, mouth agape, and walks towards the edge.

You get out shortly after him, arms spread wide. “Ta-da!”

He turns to face you, the biggest grin you’ve ever seen him wear placed nicely upon his lips. “Dave, this is amazing! Where _are_ we?”

“Well,” You lean up against the hood of your car. “This is the home of the second best view in the whole city?”

“Second best? What’s the first?” He joins you in leaning against the car. Your eyes don’t leave him as he walks towards you, and when he stops you give him a pointed stare and an eyebrow raise. He catches on pretty quickly, you think, because suddenly his face is red as a tomato and he’s pushing himself off the car again.

Dave Strider, you smooth motherfucker.

John walks back to the edge of the cliff, not looking at you after that. You can’t tell if it’s because he was embarrassed at the compliment or if he was embarrassed at you flirting with him. You really hope it’s the first one.

Eventually, you join him, in his seated position near the edge. He wordlessly looks over to you and then returns his gaze to the skyline of the city. This kid was so hard to read when he wanted to be.

After several more beats of silence, John speaks up without turning to you. “Y’know, this might actually be the _third_ best view in the city.” You look over at him and notice the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. John Egbert, you smooth motherfucker.


	5. Chapter 5

John was kidding, when he said that, obviously. That doesn’t mean it didn’t make your heart flutter. That doesn’t mean it didn’t make you drive home in a half-daze with a million things on your mind. That doesn’t mean you didn’t crawl into bed with a hopeful heart and optimistic point of view. Sure it was joke flirting, you were almost positive he was joking, but it was a start. He took your line, your cheesy dumb pick-up line that you stole from a movie and he turned it on you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel _awesome_.

The feeling could be described as a sort of high, but with emotions and shit, like Egbert straight up injected some feelings into your bloodstream. The feelings were in there, worming their way around, making their way to your heart making you feel all kinds of things. Hope. Fear. Love. Hope. Excitement. Did you say hope? Hope.

You have hope.

That hope carried you through the next two weeks of shooting, John and you hanging out regularly during it. It pushed you through the endless days of Karkat dangling John in front of you because you knew John was your friend and, even if he was kidding, he flirted with you. Not Karkat. You. He went out of his way to do things _with you_. Some indie-hipster kid that just so happened to end up in the right place at the right time and be friends with the right person. God knows if Karkat wouldn’t have been your friend somebody else would be working on this film with John. Now sure, that seems like a good thing – no John, no confusing feelings. But as far as you were concerned it was not a good thing.

Woah, did you hear that? It sounded like a whip cracking.

Haha, Jesus Dave, you’re whipped. You’re whipped on a boy that doesn’t even know you like him. A boy that thinks every bad pick-up line and bat of an eyelash you throw his way is fake. Alright, that hurts a little, but not enough to dampen your mood. Sure he didn’t like you back ( _yet_ ) but he DID want to be your friend and that is a start!

Speaking of John though, the two of you are preparing to shoot the last scene of the movie before it wraps up. It’s not like the actual last scene, just the last one you’re filming. You’re incredibly nervous because it’s a kissing scene. A very _very_ passionate kissing scene, on John’s part, not yours. Karkat has been shooting devious smirks at you all day, you can already tell he’s gonna try to fuck with you, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve thought of a better way to look at it – every time he calls cut when you’re about to kiss John, it just means you get to almost kiss John again. And again. And again.

A pang of sadness finds its way to your chest as you take place for the last scene. Sadness because it’s almost over, you won’t get to kiss John anymore. But you’re also relieved, maybe if you didn’t have to keep kissing him your crush would go away? Worry also presents itself; worry that when it’s over John won’t want to keep being your friend and that the two of you were only to be seen together for publicity. Your stomach, to put it bluntly, is in knots.

This wasn’t a particularly vocal scene; no this was pretty much all kissing and touching. You inhale through your nose quietly out of anticipation right as Karkat calls action. Your eyes fall onto John who, against all the nerdy vibes he gave off, was looking pretty damn promiscuous. He was only inches in front of you and it didn’t take but more than a few seconds for his fingers to intertwine themselves in the fabric of your shirt and tug you forward.

The action wasn’t surprising, it was familiar and planned, but a look of surprise crept upon your face anyway. Acting.

You gently put your hands on his shoulders and push, breaking the kiss. Your eyes scan his face, he looks confused, and you look surprised. “What are you _doing?_ ” You hiss.

He uses the hand not entangled in your shirt to gently push your hair off of your forehead and smirks. You wear a look of shock and curiosity. John’s expression is playful and flirty. You slowly let your eyes fall back down to his lips and slowly close the gap again. The kiss lasts much longer this time, long enough for you to melt into it.

It’s too good to be true though.

“Cut!” Karkat shouts. He hops out of his director’s seat and slow claps. “Lovely boys, just lovely.” You roll your eyes and pull back from John, silently flipping Karkat the bird. He gives you a sour grin in return. “That was magnificent, Egbert, I could almost believe you _actually like_ Dave!” You clench your jaw and ignore the comment and snide look Karkat shoots your way.

John blushes a bit and rubs the back of his neck. God this kid was gonna kill you with cuteness. “And Strider!” Karkat claps a hand over your shoulder. “Great job. I know it must be hard to act so surprised when the guy you l-”

You shove his hand off your shoulder and glare daggers at him. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

The corners of his mouth curl up at both ends, in a less serious situation you would compare him to the Grinch, what with the sinister vibe he was giving off. “Don’t what?”

“You know good and damn well _what,_ Karkat!” Several people around the set have stopped what they were doing to look at your and your ex-best friend.

“Oh do I?” He raises an index finger innocently to his lip and rolls his eyes up. “Hmmm, what do I know? I know your birthday is December third, I know your brother raised you since you were nine, I know your mom was a drunk, and oh,” The devilish smirk he was wearing before dances on his lips in an almost threatening manner. “I know you have a HUGE crush on John over here.”

Whispers almost immediately begin to echo throughout the studio, John’s gaze falls on you, but you avoid it. Suddenly the good feelings you had, the hope and happiness… They fade. You feel hallow. Empty. Your teeth clench on and off as Karkat runs a finger over your cheek. You want more than anything to rear back and punch him. You want to knock that smug fucking smirk off his face.

It takes all your self-control not to. It takes every single ounce of willpower you have to resist pulling your fist back and decking him right in the jaw. You actually feel like you may vomit. The butterflies in your stomach are in an all-out war, looking for escape.

As a final gesture, Karkat pats your cheek with the palm of his hand and nods at John. “He’s a keeper, Egbert.” You can still feel John’s gaze on you and it’s painful.

Your self-control is dwindling.

You’re going to do it.

He’s getting away.

It’s now or never.

As if on autopilot, you let your hand fall on Karkat’s shoulder. His back is to you but the way his head turns you can tell he senses the danger. You spin him around and without thinking too much about it you let your other hand contact his jaw with a sickening crack. Karkat’s hands immediately shoot up to his face and he looks at you, horrified.

It takes a few seconds for you to realize what you did. Reality comes crashing down. People are rushing over to check on Karkat, John has backed away from both of you, and the glare your former best friend was shooting could kill.

You take a few steps back and analyze the room, your head was spinning and everything was happening in a sort of dull slow motion. You finally let your gaze fall on John, he’s not looking at Karkat like everyone else; he’s looking at you. He looked petrified. You open your mouth to speak but your tongue feels swollen and your throat dry. Words don’t come.

And to think this day started out so good.

You were sure you and John would have a great friendship.

Karkat couldn’t ruin your friendship.

But he just did.

You were almost sure he just did.

You absentmindedly run a hand through your hair and take a few more steps back from the chaos, John’s eyes never leave you, but you don’t acknowledge them. Instead, you turn completely and head for your dressing room. The one sanctuary you have in this shithole.

Your hands are shaking by the time you reach your dressing room. Your practically slam the door behind you and collapse into the chair in front of the mirror. When you look in the mirror you don’t see yourself. You’re still wearing the colored contacts from shooting; they don’t show the emotion your eyes would show. They don’t hold the feelings – the betrayal, embarrassment, shock… anger.

You can see yourself clenching your jaw in the reflection, you didn’t even realize you were doing it until now.

You slink down in your chair, turning your face away from the one staring back at you, and breathe out heavily through your nose.

Your heart aches and your head hurts.

You felt numb and empty, but at the same time full of anger.

Why? _Why_ would he do that? Your _best friend_? The feeling of vomit returned. You tried to fight it down but couldn’t. You were _angry_. So fucking MAD.

And worse than that you were scared.

Scared that John would never look at you the same again, scared that any chance you had of being friends was ruined. Ruined at the hands of your…

You heave a sigh and press the palms of both your hands to your eyes.

Life _sucks._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea what i'm doing or what to do this is a DISASTER

You have pretty much resided yourself to being alone in the days since Karkat told John. Days? Or was it weeks? Fuck, you didn’t care. You tried not to think about it. The day it happened you changed your clothes and slipped out of the studio virtually unnoticed. You went home, stopping to get greasy fast food on the way, and secluded yourself from the world for… three days? Before finally getting off your ass and buying some groceries.

So now, an undetermined amount of time had passed. It’s not like you purposefully lost track of the days, you just didn’t care. Instead of solving your problems like a grown-up you were perfectly okay with isolating yourself in your tiny apartment and never seeing daylight again. Of course, you’re going to have to see daylight. You’re running low on microwave macaroni and you ain’t about to waste 30 minutes boiling water for some damn cheesy noodles.

You pry yourself off the couch and slip on a pair of checkered Vans thrown lazily next to it. The backs of them fold under your feet, it’s uncomfortable but you don’t really give a damn. Your wallet is on the coffee table; you pocket it, grab your keys, and head out the door. You forget to lock it but don’t realize until you’re in the elevator already. Oh well.

The ride to the grocery store is unsurprisingly uneventful. You don’t need much so you just grab a handheld basket from beside the door and stroll in.

Bread? Check.

Milk? Check.

Eggs? Check.

Doritos? Check.

Coke? Check.

Wait, why did you come here to begin with. Fuck, you were out of _something_.

Pizza rolls? Might as well get some, just in case.

Was it… burritos? You have no idea; you toss a pack into the basket.

Lunch meat? Uh, why not?

You rack your brain as you idly walk through the isle, trying to remember what you meant to buy. Your basket quickly filling up from all the impulse buys. You snag two packs of Oreos, a box of coco pebbles, a box of gushers, and a few cans of Vienna sausages. Your eyes scan your basket; surely the thing you meant to buy is in there. You shrug and make your way to the check-out counter.

“Did you find everything alright today, sir?” The woman behind the counter says. She pretty, long curly black hair and bright green eyes. You shrug in response and pull out your wallet. She finishes ringing you up and reads off your total, just as you go to hand her the cash you remember why you came.

“Shit, hey can you hold these for like two seconds, I forgot the Easy Mac.” She nods cheerfully. You run past the people in line behind you, a stream of “sorry, hang ons” coming from your mouth. Fuckin’ pasta isle clear on the other side of the store, you jog there, quick as you please, and round the corner a little too fast.

You run right into somebody. Way to go.

Their groceries go flying and the basket they were caring hits the floor with a loud crack.

“Oh holy fuck, I’m sorry,” Your hands frantically dart around, scooping up the dropped groceries. “I was in a hurry trying to get some Easy Mac – the cashier is waiting and fuuuck I am so s-”

“Dave.” The person cuts you off.

Your eyes slowly trail from the floor, up the legs of the person, and to their face. You’re met with a pair of dazzling blue eyes. “Oh fuck me.” You groan. “I’m sorry.”

“Get your macaroni.” He laughs, turning his yellow grocery basket upright and refilling it. You stare at him for a second, “Well come on, the cashier is waiting.” He urges.

You snap back to your senses and nod, “Right right, fuck I’m sorry, John.” You stand, nervously rubbing your neck in the process. You stand there awkwardly for another second before deciding you don’t know what else to say and going to get the macaroni.

After you grab it, you head back to the register. John is in the line now, waiting to be checked out himself. You nod at him, whisper an apology, and set your macaroni near the scanner. The cashier rings it up, puts it in the bag with the rest of your groceries, and you pay.

You should leave.

You should walk out the door with your stuff and not look back.

So why aren’t your feet moving?

Why are you standing there with two arms full of grocery sacks waiting?

The three people in front of John pass, none of them look twice at you. You don’t look twice at them; in fact you’re not even sure if it was three people or two or four? You were mostly staring at John; how on Earth did he get cuter since you’d seen him last?

He walks up to you, the few things he bought hanging from his fists loosely. “So speedy Gonzalez,” He begins, silently encouraging you to walk alongside him.

You roll your eyes and step in time with him, “Shut up, macaroni is important.”

“Yes, I can tell.” He nods thoughtfully.

The two of you walk in silence to the automatic doors. It’s painfully awkward silence; at least you think it is. Maybe John was being nice because he’s a nice person? Maybe he was pretending it never happened… the.. you know. Ugh.

“Where are you parked?” He chimes. You nod your head to the left. “Oh me too! We can walk together.”

More silence.

You clear your throat. “Hey, uh John?”

He looks over at you, “Hm?”

“About what Karkat said…” The feeling of butterflies rose in your stomach.

“Hey don’t sweat it.” He shrugs and looks away from you. “He was only kidding, right?” You can almost hear him nervously gulp.

You think for a minute.

The cat was already out of the bag, should you put it back or let it free? Fuuuck.

You grit your teeth and sigh, shaking your head. “No.” You squeeze your eyes shut tight, only for a second. A dramatic gesture to show you didn’t want to tell him.

“Oh.” Is his reply.

“Listen, fuck, I’m sorry, it’s not like I planned on having a crush on you it just kind of happened and Karkat made it worse and you’re just really cute and funny and down to Earth and I liked hanging out with you, like you said, I’m not very social, but fuck I liked doing shit with you. And I liked kissed you, oh boy, I really liked kissing you. Is that weird? I feel like that’s probably weird, but I mean since we’re here having a confessional I might as well fucking tell you. I looked forward to the days when we got to kiss and tough and pretend to be in love. You’re a good friend to have and I feel like this kind of fucked everything up and-”

“Dave!” John tugs you back by the sleeve of your shirt, saving you from a head-on collision with a parked car. “Watch it, stupid.”

“Oops.” You swallow hard.

John shakes his head and nods towards a car just down the row. “That’s me.” You blink a few times as he starts walking away, thinking he’d ignored you. He stops and turns around once he’s a few feet away. “You know Dave, I don’t care that you have a crush on me.” He clicks the button for his car lock and takes a few steps backwards. “Maybe if you weren’t so antisocial you would’ve known you weren’t the only one with a crush.” He gives you a final solemn smile before turning around and getting in his car.

_What the fuck?!_

WHAT JUST HAPPENED?

Did John just admit he _LIKED YOU?_ Or… somebody else?

No that was directed at you, it HAD to be, right?

WHAT. THE. HELL?

You stand there, awe-struck, staring at his license plate as he drives away. Your jaw is hanging open and you’re pretty sure you aren’t breathing.

What in the world… just happened?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ones a bit short but i'm literally pulling it out of my ass at this point, i've also accidentally started another fic that i actually have a plan for so yikes!!!

Needless to say, you were confused. Beyond confused, even. John told you he liked _you,_ at least you think that’s what he was saying, honestly, you weren’t sure. But it sure as hell sounded like John admitted to returning your feelings.

Only he left right after, so you couldn’t ask him. Not that you’d be brave enough to.

It took almost five minutes for you to finally stop staring at the parking lot in front of you after John left. You probably would’ve stood there longer but a car behind you honked, snapping you back to your senses.

So now you’ve migrated from the parking lot to behind the wheel of your car, still trying to make sense of what just happened. You actually should probably go; you’ve got milk and stuff in the back. As much as you’d like to sit here all day in a confused daze, you pull yourself from it and put your car in reverse.

On the way home you almost ran a red light and you DID run a stop sign, thank fuck it was clear. You haphazardly put your groceries up and then collapse onto the sofa. You stare at your phone for a long LONG time before finally working up the courage to call John.

_You pick it up off of the cushion beside you and dial his number. You press call and put the phone to your ear._

Except you don’t.

It’s still on the cushion, your hand hovering over it. God, this should be simple.

Pick up phone.

Dial John.

Talk to John.

Ask what he meant.

Simple!

So why were you so fucking scared? You’re Dave Strider, for crying out loud! Fear is not an emotion you experience often. Okay, so when you lived with Bro you basically lived in fear of Lil Cal, but that doesn’t count. Lil Cal was like cool-creepy. With his… freaky beady eyes that watched you.. and his weird orange noodle limbs… and…

Oh God. You shudder and store the memories away again. Enough thinking about Lil Cal, call John!

You inhale deeply through your nose and actually do pick up the phone this time. You dial John’s number. Very slowly. You draw out every thumb movement and button push. You exhale calmly through your mouth. Your thumb hovers over the green call button.

This is it, the moment of truth.

You slowly lower your thumb and press the button.

It rings.

Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck, why’d you do this?

“Hello?” John’s voice rings through.

Your throat locks up and you regret every stupid thing you’ve ever done in your entire life all in this one small moment.

“Dave?” He questions.

You remain silent. If there were ever a day where somebody could say “Dave Strider lost his cool.” That day would be today.

“Dave, hello???”

You cover the microphone piece and take a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. You clench your jaw a little and put the phone up to your ear.

“John?”

“Jeez, I was starting to think you butt dialed me!” He laughs.

“What did you mean?” You get straight to the point.

“Huh?” You can’t tell if he really doesn’t know or if he’s just playing dumb.

“What did you mean when you said that…” You stop for a second; trying to find the right words, but decide not to over-complicate it. “At the store?”

“Oh.”  He sighs a little. “Well, I thought I made it pretty obvious.”

“No, you really didn’t.” You groan.

“This is a two way street we’re walking here, Dave.”

“Thank you captain cryptic.”

He sighs again and you hear some rustling on his end, it quiets after a second. “You have a crush on me, yes? According to Karkat, anyway.”

“Yes,” You say before actually thinking about it. Pretty sure if you’d thought about it you would’ve just beat around the bush... again.

“Right, so you’re not the only one!”

“With a crush on you?”

He groans. “No, you idiot.”

“Then… you have a crush on me?” You speak slowly and confused.

“Duh!” He laughs, fuck that sweet soft adorable stupid laugh, you hate it. No you don’t. Ugh.

“Well that’s… not what I … who the fuck would’ve seen that coming.” You slump down on the couch and run a hand loosely through your hair.

“Well I did, I was hoping every time we went somewhere we’d get a little… closer. Started to think I was just imagining you kissing me desperately when we were supposed to be acting and staring at me constantly because you never made a move.”

“Well neither did you!” You retort.

“I made an effort to talk to you and be friends outside of filming. You wallowed in your own self-pity.” He said sternly. He wasn’t lying. You were pretty damn wallow-y. You open your mouth to protest, but you can’t think of anything to say. You snap your mouth shut and swallow, letting a momentary silence fall between you.

“Anyway,” He begins, breaking the silence. “It doesn’t matter if we like each other, if you even want a chance you gotta do it right, bub!”

“What?”

“I want you to ask me out on a proper date and stop rolling around in your sad gay feelings! And stop hating Karkat! I think he was trying to help… in some kind of fucked up way.”

“Uh, okay, Egbert, wanna go on a-”

He cuts you off. “Not now, stupid! When I’m not expecting it.”

“What but why not now?” You ask slightly dumbfounded.

“Because, Dave, you need to learn to stop hiding your emotions. The entire time I’ve known you, you’ve been so stoic and mopey, you’re like… ugh!” He makes a loud thudding noise, you’re not sure what it was and you don’t bother asking.

“So you want me to ask you out… but not now… and I can’t be… normal?” You are extremely confused.

“Yes. I want you to put some effort into it! Show a little emotion, Dave!!!!” He encourages. “Give me a Say Anything moment.”

“Dude that is so gay,” You laugh.

“Then do something less gay, I don’t know. But having a crush on a boy is kind of gay already.” He also laughs. “So impress me, Strider! I’ll be waiting.”

“But if you’re waiting, then how can I do it when you’re not expecting it?” You smirk, slightly more comfortable with the fact that yes, the boy you liked does in fact like you back. What are the chances of _that?_

He groans and you can practically see him rolling his eyes from here, “Just impress me, Dave!”

“Needy.” You laugh. He hangs up and you’re left a little bit confused and a lot happy. You aren’t 100% sure what just happened, again, but you’re glad it did.

Guess it’s time to impress John Egbert. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dang dang dang this update took longer than normal to crank out because i got hella sick last week and i've been all mucky and icky since and THEN i started binge watching orange is the new black so im sorry i also am like clueless on where to go with this oh jeez

Impressing John was a lot harder than you thought it would be; that little nerd had standards – _high_ standards. Product of Hollywood, you assume. You’ve tried three times now to woo him, sweep him off his stupid feet. Failure. Every time. He didn’t ever say anything when you did; he just wore a very knowing smirk and gave you a big ol’ thumbs-down. It’s time to play hardball.

If this were a movie this would be the comedic musical montage scene, depicting you attempting various ways to win John Egbert’s heart. But this isn’t a movie, so this isn’t going to be that smooth or hilarious. It’s probably going to be embarrassing and frustrating.

_plans to woo egbert:_

  1. _~~give him a “say anything moment”~~_


  * _~~watch the movie say anything~~_


  1. _~~show up to his house with at least two dozen flowers~~_


  * _~~make sure he isnt allergic to anything tho~~_


  1. _~~proclaim your love via embarrassing public act~~_


  * _~~arent all of these embarrassing public acts?~~_


  1. _~~put the bunny back in the box~~_


  * _~~im not doing this one nobody can make me~~_


  1. _stop being a fucking pansy and put the damn bunny back in the damn box_


  *        _god fucking damn it why is john such a nerd im going to have to go all con air up in this bitch aint i_



So, after making a short list (where you argued with yourself for some reason) you have come to the conclusion that the best way to sway John’s heart is to “go all Con Air up in this bitch”, as you so eloquently put it. Time to get down to business (and defeat the Hun) and woo yourself a nerd-kid.

You buy a bunny first, a shitty one, in fact you scour the internet for the exact bunny from Con Air, and oh man John is going to love this. You clean it up a little, not that you don’t dig the smelly oily man grit of Nic Cage that is wafting off of the bunny, it’s gross.

Now for the box.

John’s favourite colour is green, but he also likes blue… But that might not stick with him.

How about red?

Leave your mark.

So you trick out a regular cardboard box. You paint it red; add some glitter, a few Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff comics, and some tinsel. Perfect. John will never be able to say no. You’ve got this in the bag, Strider!

You gently place the stuffed rabbit into the box and close it up, making sure to leave a note asking John on a “real date.” (And a certificate of authenticity, but that isn’t as important.) Normally you don’t take this much pride in your projects, but this one is especially important, so you clear off a space of your cluttered kitchen table and set the box down carefully.

It’s kind of late now. Too late to deliver the gift, anyway, so you’ll wait. You nod in approval at your bad-ass gift one last time before grabbing a coke from the fridge and planting you ass firmly on the sofa. Time for a night full of contented-mindless television viewing.

Except not.

You must’ve fallen asleep because next thing you know you’re being jolted awake by the obnoxious sound of your ringtone blaring next to your heard.

“Fuck.” You groan and rub your eyes. It takes a minute for your hand to actually find the phone, despite it being literally right beside you, but you were tired.

You don’t bother looking at the caller’s name – too tired to care. What time is it even? Ugh. Who calls this early? “Hello?” You yawn.

“Hey Strider.” Oh _great_. Karkat.

You prop yourself up on the arm of the couch and make sure annoyance is clear in your voice, “What do you want?”

“To apologize, for one.” Yuck.

“Yeah, go fuck yourself.” You snarl and prepare to hang up.

“No! Dave, holy fuck, hang on.” He protests. You sigh loudly (and frustratedly) to let him know you’re still there. “Remember when I called you weeks ago, drunk off my ass?” You grunt and agreement in remembrance. “Well there was a reason, I forgot then and then I didn’t know I didn’t tell you and… it was confusing and then I kissed John – which by the fucking way was an accident. I was wasted. Excuse me for latching onto the nearest pair of slightly-kissable lips in the room. Be thankful it wasn’t you.”

“Get on with it, Vantas, I don’t have time to listen to your bullshit.”

“Jeez, alright, it was about John. I called you to tell you he liked you back.” He sighs. “But you started being really fucking bitter towards me, and one bad apple can contaminate the whole bushel. I took your bitterness and kind of made it my own, so that’s why…” He lets the sentence hang but you know what he’s saying.

“So you told 200 people I had a crush on John because you were bitter because I was bitter because you just so happened to know John had a crush on me but OH no you didn’t fucking tell me, you let me simmer in my confusion and hate.”

“Well when you put it like that, I sound like an asshole.” He laughs.

You aren’t laughing. “You are an asshole.”

“Okay, true, but I thought I should tell you. Try to clear up some of this bad blood.”

“Goodnight, Karkat.” You hang up the phone even though you can hear him start to speak again. God what a fucking dick. _He knew._ This entire time. Sure it was childish to hold it over him but he was a dick and you don’t care.

You toss your phone on the floor and lay your head back down on the couch. No point in moving to your room it’s already four in the morning. Sleep finds you again, only this time your dream isn’t as pleasant as it’d been before Karkat called.

Morning rolls around and you groggily pull yourself off the couch and make probably six pots of coffee before you’re actually awake enough to do anything worthwhile. That’s an exaggeration, but you get the idea. You’re working on your fifth cup of coffee when you notice the red box on the kitchen table and remember your big plans.

Maybe you could put it off for another day?

No! It’s now or never, Strider.

You down your last cup of Joe and take a… very long… shower. You wash your hair three times and then stand under the water until it runs cold because you’re trying to draw out the inevitable.

What if John doesn’t like your gift? He’s going to fucking reject you again. You’re not sure if you can handle that. There are only so many thumbs-downs that the heart can take.

You dry yourself off and get dressed and prepare to enter the fray.

Actually, you leave the house without the present the first time and the second time you knock on the wrong door, apparently John lives two floors higher. So you recompose yourself after that and now…

Now, you’re standing in front of John’s apartment door. (He’s only 18 but he has an apartment because his dad lives in New York and wasn’t about to move so his son could film a movie.)

You raise your hand above the wood and…

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

It’s now or never, Strider.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is proooobably it for this story seeing as i basically winged this entire thing i dont wanna keep digging a hole

John opens the door almost as soon as you knock. He has either been waiting right beside it for days or just so happens to be next to it when you arrive. You’re going to bank on the first, if only just to build your ego.

Before you have a chance to let yourself falter, you coolly stride past him into the apartment and look around. You make an agreeable expression and nod, “Not too shabby, Egbert.”

“Dave? What’re you doing here?” He shuts the door and stares at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m here to win you over.” You shrug. “Just like you wanted.”

His expression changes from confused to slightly annoyed and he puts a hand on his hip. “Oh really? How do you expect to do that this time?”

You hold out the red box, arms-length away from yourself, right in front of him.

“A gift for you, my liege.”

“Dave, you’ve already given-”

“Just take it, asshole.” You shake the box a little to encourage urgency.

John knits his eyebrows together and frowns before taking the box. After he does you find your way to the sofa and plop down, making yourself comfortable.

“Now it ain’t much, but I know you’ll love it.”

You hear him opening it behind you, followed by the sound of tissue paper being moved around, and finally a small gasp.

“Dave is this…” He trails off.

“The one and only.” You nod.

“This is _the_ bunny?”

“It sure is.” You look over the back of the couch and grin at him. He doesn’t notice because now he’s fished the letter you wrote out of the box – the bunny tucked in the fold of his elbow.

You felt your heart flutter, knowing he was reading what could literally be the gayest thing you’ve ever wrote. You play it cool, though, clench your jaw a little and bite back the nerves. John’s face slowly splits into a smile as he’s reading it.

When he’s done he drops the letter back into the box and his eyes fall on you. “Well, I’ll be damned, Mr. Strider. You really do know how to show some class.”

“So… I did it?” You say, a little unsure.

John’s smile broadens and he shrugs. “You’ve got me blushing like a school-girl over here, so I guess we’re gonna say yeah. Yeah, you did it.” He pauses and then shrugs a bit. “Plus I am getting impatient.”

“Put the bunny back in the box and come kiss me, you huge nerd.”

He does as you say (with a huge dorky grin on his face, you might add) and walks over to the couch, very playfully leaning in. “Rushing it a little, don’t you think?”

You make annoyance very clear in your expression, “John.”

He laughs and leans over the back of the couch to give you a quick kiss. “What? You think just because we kissed during filming all the time we can just go and kiss in real life too?”

“Yes that is exactly what I think.”

John laughs and rolls his eyes. “If we’re gonna do this we’re doing it right!”

“What?”

“No kissing until our third date, at least.” He folds his arms with a very satisfied expression on his face.

“Are you serious, Egbert?”

“As a heart attack, _Strider_.”

You groan and pull yourself off the couch. “Well then come on then.” You walk around it and grab onto his wrist, dragging him behind you.

He stumbles a bit to keep up, “Where are we going?”

_“On three dates.”_

And you do take him on three dates. Three anxiously awaited dates. Three dates that you could’ve gone on much _much_ sooner if you’d stopped sulking and did something about your crush. Three dates that, as much as you hate to admit it, probably ruined your friendship with Karkat. You should probably call him. Not that you _want_ to. Just… He did apologize, and sure his reasoning was shit but he _is_ your best friend and you did kind of win John’s heart despite all of the seemingly random bullshit.

You don’t want to think about Karkat right now, though.

You want to think about the totally cheesy dates you took John on. You went for the cliché-as-fuck vibe. Took him out for pizza, then mini-golf, then a movie, and then out to watch the stars.

The next night you took him ice-skating at an indoor rink. Who knew you were really bad at ice skating? You sure didn’t. He saved your ass more than once. After that, you got hot chocolate and held hands during a walk in the park. John was recognized and pictures of the two of you would probably surface in the tabloids in a few days. You mentally laugh at the possible titles, “costar or something more?”, “egbert’s gay romance more than just for the silver screen”, or “two nerds in love”. Okay the last one is self-indulgence, but still.

The third date you took him on is your favourite. You took him to a Mexican restaurant and found out he is fluent in Spanish, which is incredibly hot. After that, the two of you literally spent hours in the booth at this restaurant swapping life stories, you found out everything you could about him. You found out he wasn’t born in America, but his Dad was an American citizen and his mom became one when they got married. You found out his favourite colour is green, but his cousin Jade has dibs on it, so he pretends it’s blue. You found out he doesn’t really like being an actor, but it’s a job he’s so used to he couldn’t do anything else.

But what you liked the most was the stuff you found out from watching, not listening. You watched him fidget with his food nervously when he spoke about topics that hit home; you watched how he ate, and how he rolled his tongue on the letter R when he spoke to the waiter in Spanish. You noticed how he apologizes more than once for the little things like accidentally bumping your foot with his own. You shrugged it off and turn it into a game of footsie.

After you’re done at the restaurant you take him home, he asks if you want to come in and watch a movie. You say “hell yeah” and join him in hours of mind-numbing Netflix watching. The two of you are curled up on the couch watching probably the sixth movie of the night when John sits up a little and turns his head to kiss you. It takes you by surprise, but you don’t stop him. You resituate yourself so that the kiss is more comfortably. You pick a position that is hopefully comfortable for both of you. (From experience, kissing in an awkward position is now something you were fond of.)

And that’s it. The start of what you hope to be a very long relationship with Johnathan Cornelius Egbert. Everyone always says Hollywood relationships fall through – you hope that isn’t the case here. Honestly you could hang out with just John for the rest of your life and be completely content.

Maybe next time you have a crush you won’t act like a child about it?

That’s to say… if you have another crush.

With the way things are going with John, it looks like you’re going to be together for at least awhile.

 

 


End file.
